


Charlie Boy

by LunaStellaCat



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 09:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13121352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaStellaCat/pseuds/LunaStellaCat
Summary: James Potter sees a new side of Minerva McGonagall through the eyes of a little boy.





	Charlie Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SecretFruits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretFruits/gifts).



Written for Secret Santa Signups: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

 

This gift is for Secret Fruits, who asked for the following prompts: 

purple (word) “I made the right choice.” (Dialogue), friendship. Characters: Minerva McGonagall and James Potter

Hope you like it, SecretFruits. A very Merry Christmas to you, dear. 

“Charlie Boy” 

School ended at the end of the day. It was difficult to explain or put into words, really, but the professors and certainly the likes of Argus Filch didn't exist outside of this world. James Potter joined the Order straight out of school. The streets taught him more in the last few months than he ever learned in school, but things still threw him for a loop. 

When Benjy Fenwick told James and Sirius to meet him outside a secondhand bookshop, James expected to see the bookworm lawyer in his nerdish finest, and Benjy certainly didn't disappoint, wearing a casual blazer over a turtleneck and slacks, his blonde curls blowing in the wind. The cute kid came as a bonus. 

What he didn’t expect was to see Minerva McGonagall dressed in a blouse and a skirt. She looked very odd in Muggle clothes, almost out of place. The woman pulled Benjy’s son, Charlie, over to the side, helped him put on a new coat, a red scarf, and a Ivy cap. Benjy rolled his eyes when she knelt and tied Charlie’s red trainers and kissed the boy on the cheek. 

“Are we done?” Benjy feigned disappointment. 

“One more thing.” Professor McGonagall pretended not to hear Benjy and handed Charlie a purple rucksack. She turned to Benjy, slipped her arm through his, and acted as though they were old friends. “You may thank me at anytime, Benjamin.” 

“Thank you,” he said grudgingly, crossing his arms, muttering about skipping Christmas altogether. 

“You’re welcome. That’s a good sport, Benjy.” Pretending as though she didn't catch his humbug response, Professor McGonagall kissed him on the cheek, too. Charlie, a chatterbox, rattled on about the books the Professor stuffed into his rucksack.

“That’s nice, Charlie,” said Benjy, rushing a little to get to the point, “but what do you say?” 

Charlie, a fat little kid with blonde curls blowing around his face, bowed to the Professor like he addressed royalty or some highborn lady. Benjy nudged Professor McGonagall, rather impressed by this move, although the Professor raised her eyebrows and shot Benjy a look James knew all too well; he, James, rather felt like he got caught red-handed. 

“Thank you, madam,” said Charlie, bowing again. This time the Professor laughed, but she knelt, too, on the pavement to get eye-level with the little boy. 

“You are most welcome, Charlie,” she said, strictly formal on purpose. 

“My Uncle Charles met with the Queen at her Christmas lunch and held an audience with her. He writes for the paper.” Benjy shrugged as if this were nothing, yet the pride and unmistakable happiness rang in his tone. “I guess my uncle practiced with Charlie.” 

“Oh. Well, tell your father it’s 1978.” Minerva patted Charlie on the cheek and hugged him goodbye. It was only when she rose to her full height she seemed to realize James and Sirius witnessed this, and she stepped back.

“Benjy, Professor McGonagall, Mr. Fenwick Miniature,” said James, saluting Benjy’s son and making the boy laugh. 

The gesture got returned, which honestly surprised James more than anything, because the boy obviously had no idea what he was doing. Benjy nodded curtly at Minerva, telling her he’d see her later. Professor McGonagall, confused, looked from James, to Sirius, to Benjy, and unfortunately, she clearly put two and two together without a single dropped hint.

“See you tonight, Minerva,” said Benjy shortly, shooing James and Sirius along. The Professor walked down the street, turning into a tabby cat as she went. Benjy picked up his boy end marched with James and Sirius. “What the hell do you think you fools are playing at? Getting caught by the police?” 

“Oh, you heard about that?” asked Sirius. 

“Daddy.” Before Benjy managed to muster a response with colorful vocabulary, or so James assumed it went down thus way, Charlie pointed at the spot where the Professor had been moments before she vanished. “Why is she a cat?” 

“Because she’s an over-achiever,” said Benjy, placing his hand on Sirius’s shoulder when Sirius coughed. 

Charlie rested his head on his father’s shoulder, taking this answer as good enough. Benjy walked ahead of James and Sirius, his eyes darting in a paranoid matter like he expected the worst to take place at any moment. Charlie’s rucksack hung on Benjy’s arm. A motorbike sat on the curb. It ran apparently on gasoline, or this is what passerby assumed, though no smoke issued from the exhaust pipe. Sirius climbed back onto the bike and offered Benjy the helmet. 

“You want me to ride that contraption with you? No, no thank you, Sirius, I choose life, thank you very much.” Benjy patted Charlie’s head and kissed him. “I’ve got a present for you. Only it’s not coming till the spring.” 

“What is it, Daddy?” Charlie hugged his father’s neck. “Can I tell Mummy?” 

“Oh, Mummy knows,” said Benjy, chuckling. He walked faster, pulling out his wand when someone fired a curse at him, unseen. Benjy moved faster than James would’ve believed. The man brandished his wand like a sharp blade and defected another spell. 

James and Sirius drew their wands, too, in an identical movement. Charlie’s cries distracted James, but Benjy stayed on point. For a lawyer who sat behind a desk shuffling paper and parchment day in and day out, Benjy put up one hell of a fight one-handed. He uttered no spell, and he resembled a marionette pulled by invisible strings by some unseen master. 

“In broad daylight,” swore Benjy, ducking underneath Sirius and slicing his wand through the air. 

A porky woman burdened with her holiday shopping dropped her wrapped parcels. James wondered idly what this woman thought she saw, or indeed if she sew anything at all, for Benjy moved with such fluidness and sleight of hand. James cast a Shield Charm. The woman, her hair still in rollers, dropped a bag of cat food and cowered like a frightened child as flashes of light zoomed past them. 

 

Charlie screamed bloody murder. 

“He’s mine,” said Sirius, chasing after one of them. The other attacker, no doubt wanting this thing over as quickly as it started, Disapparated in the distance. 

Benjy horrified, stared at the blood on his hand. Charlie, still conscious, wore a gaping cut on his chubby hand. James went to check on the crazy cat woman in her carpet slippers, yet a thousand questions raced through Benjy’s mind. 

“You’re all right, Charlie. Charles!” Benjy watched helplessly as Charlie’s eyes rolled in the back of his head. Sirius raced back towards then, a joke on his lips, but when he saw the scene unfold before him, he froze in mid-step as if someone cast an Impediment Charm upon him. 

James dismissed the lady, who hurriedly said her name was Arabella Doreen Figg. He gathered her husband, Rory, worked for Magical Maintenance at the Ministry. James, completely thrown off by this nugget, slipped his wand into his back pocket. 

“Are you all right?” James offered her a hand. 

“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly…” Mrs. Figg stamped her foot as her eyes darted down the the crowded London street. “Don’t put your wand away, boy. What if they come back? What use am I?” 

“Pull out your wand,”’ demanded James, a little affronted she called the kettle black here. 

“Well, I can't. I’m a Squib.” Mrs. Figg said this with an air as though this were obvious. It wasn't. Instantly disliking this woman, despite the fact he couldn’t tell exactly why, James did as she instructed. 

Benjy,,weeping and spluttering, gathered his son in his arms. Benjy did the best he could; James took him as a shoddy Healer. James shrugged off his leather jacket, not sure he could do any better and stripped off his white t-shirt emblazoned with a golden phoenix on it, and wrapped it around Charlie’s hand once Benjy stopped the bleeding. 

“Sirius, take this woman … somewhere.” Shrugging back into his leather jacket, James made the first move and took control of the situation just like he’d done in his Quidditch days. 

James flew by the seat of his pants here, not sure of anything. He told himself a boldfaced lie. Without warning, James disappeared as Sirius stood by the motorbike and fought with his unfortunate lot, offering his annoying passenger the helmet. James didn't see whether either Sirius managed to win her over, because he vanished by Side- Along Apparition. James reappeared outside of a house in the English countryside. 

“Whatever happens, whenever it happens, I made the right choice.” James told himself this over and over like a mantra when they arrived outside of the Bones residence.

“Edgar, help me!” Benjy limped like a wounded animal desperate to sneak shelter. The man failed to feel the pain; he’d dislocated his shoulder and his foot faced the wrong direction. James, who had initially missed this, thanked Merlin for the adrenaline coursing through Benjy’s veins. 

Edgar, a thickset, stocky fellow with dark hair and a square jaw, raced towards his brother-in-law. A wreath hung on the door. Edgar, a man who sat on the Wizengamot, took the injured boy in his arms and raced into the sitting room. 

“Let me help you.” James supported Benjy as they hobbled into the sitting room. By the time they got inside, Charlie lay on the couch, and Edgar performed some quick spellwork. 

“I want Mummy,” said Charlie, coming round at a bad time. 

“Shhh, shhh, I know, Charlie Boy,” said Edgar softly. 

Edgar yelled at his children to stay upstairs with their mother. He spoke calmly, apparently cool and collected as the warm fire crackled invitingly in the grate. A handsome Christmas tree stood in the corner with gifts piled up around it. He mended Charlie’s hand before he wrapped it with bandages shooting from his wand. He kissed it, watching Benjy grin and bear it through what James imagined was unbearable pain. 

“James, slip some Sleeping Solution into a cuppa hot cocoa for Charlie Boy. That’s a nice coat, Charlie Boy, looking sharp.” Edgar perched himself on the coffee table and switched charges. Charlie drank deeply, clearing not catching the part about the laced drink and smiled when a James made the cocoa stir itself with a soft peppermint stick. 

“White chocolate. Lucky you.” James sat next to Charlie in the couch and conjured a blanket to tuck the boy in. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m James. And you are?” 

“Charles. Charles Winslow George Jonathan Fenwick II.”’ Charlie poked his fingers through the holes of the crocheted blanket as he fought sleepiness. He yawned hugely, taking the peppermint and offering the warm drink to James. “But everyone calls me Charlie.” 

“Okay, Charlie,” chuckled James, almost disguising his laughter. He grimaced painfully at Benjy, imagining this kid singing his name. Charlie nodded off, and James, smiling, sipped the hot chocolate, which was super sweet, and ran his fingers through Charlie’s thick hair. “Damn, Benjy. Do you want a pompous prick?” 

“That’s my uncle’s name! Jerk it back in.” Benjy breathed and winced through the pain. 

“Benjy, no,” Edgar objected, insisting they wait and go to the hospital.

“Yeah. Your sister will love that.” Benjy beckoned at him with his hand. “I’ve a pregnant workaholic wife who probably thinks I sleep round because you insisted I not tell her about the Order. Thanks for that, by the way. Amy called me an excellent father last night and told me under no uncertain to keep it in trousers if I wished to stay with my children. She said and I quote, ‘You will beg me. It’s me nothing at all.’” 

Edgar shoved Benjy’s shoulder in the socket without warning. Benjy howled, tears filling his eyes, yet Edgar seemed in jolly spirits. He fixed the foot, too, handling Benjy with a none too gentle hand. Benjy worked his way through a laundry list of choice words. Charlie stirred, but James shushed him, rather thinking Edgar rather enjoyed this. 

“If you hurt my little sister, baker’s boy, you need not worry about my brother Ramsey. I will haunt you down.” Edgar gripped Benjy’s jaw, forcing the man to face him. “I gave her to you. You’ll pray for death. Are we clear?” 

“Yes,” answered Benjy automatically. “Happy wife, happy life.” 

“Good. Good Benjy.” Edgar stopped by the kitchen, sharing a laugh with James as Benjy stared into the depths of the flames. 

“You’re scary.” James meant this as a compliment or a mere comment; Edgar took it as the first one and walked beck into the sitting room with coffee and biscuits. “Benjy. Where’d you learn to duel like that?” 

“I’m a boxer. Amateur, but still.” Benjy, forgetting his mended bones, demonstrated an uppercut and a jab, regretting this a moment later. Benjy reminded James of a resilient bulldog, a man who refused who go down without a fight. “I get back on my feet with or without a wand. Didn’t Peter tell you?” 

“Oh, yeah, you beat Rosier off Peter the other night in the alley! He said you actually…” James beckoned with his hand, mimicking a taunting gesture in the ring. The Muggle sport if beating someone in a ring made no sense whatsoever to James. Benjy nodded. “And you’re married to Amelia Bones. What’s it like playing the wife?” 

“I love my son,” said Benjy furiously. “I would lay down my life for that boy. You? You and your friends galavant around like … you don't know yet. There is nothing - absolutely nothing - I wouldn't do for Charlie, or Amelia, or the one on the way.” 

“She says you’re thinking about playing house husband.” Edgar sipped his black coffee. He nodded, changing his assessment with the drop of a canonical hat. “Whenever I start thinking you’re a piece of worthless you-know-what, Benjamin, you rise.” 

“Thanks? I think.” Benjy, slightly harassed, swallowed whatever this was. 

“You should’ve left me on the scene, James.” Benjy flat-out insisted on this, turning the conversation on it’s head. Benjy and the old crowd watched over James and his friends. Benjy might pay credit wherever it was due, but he didn't really trust James. 

“Yeah, right.” James didn't really listen, and Edgar Oblivated Charlie with a Memory Charm when Benjy stepped away. Minerva McGonagall’s head showed up unannounced in Edgar Bones fireplace. She sounded hurried, saying she’d stepped away for lunch. “Professor.”

“I don’t mean to poke any flaws into your excellent plan, Mr. Rochester,” she said, inclining her head towards Edgar. 

“That’s me. An alias,” explained Edgar, kneeling on the floor. 

“But if we say one thing and they insist we follow another,” said the Professor, stepping away as she inhaled ash. “Something shall slip through the cracks, and that something might be me.”

“Minerva,” said Edgar patiently, clicking his tongue when James made to politely leave the room. “We’ve discussed this to death.”

“I don’t follow orders from people I don’t know,  
Edgar.” She apparently grew impatient because she climbed out of the fireplace and into Edgar Bones’s sitting room. She stood on the hearth rug, reminding him it was Saturday. James sat up straighter. “I might’ve been a law student a long, long time ago, but you cannot tell me I am married and divorced.”

“It happens.” Edgar shrugged this off as if it held little consequence. 

“Really? To the same person at the same time? Are you and Sarah happily married and happily divorced? No? Why?” Minerva jerked her head towards the staircase. Edgar explained to James if her Animagus cover got blown and the Professor got forced to take her human form, she pretended to be Mrs. Rochester, Edgar ‘s wife. She flashed her hand; something glittered there. “You cannot be both.”

“Okay.” Edgar held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. 

“It most certainly is not okay!” Minerva stopped, taken aback when a determined Edgar approached her. He closed the distance and pressed his lips against hers.

“If you’re going to be my wife, madam, you have to kiss me back.” Edgar let her go. James gaped at them, speechless. Edgar laughed mirthlessly, whispering in her ear, though James could still hear. “Do I sleep next to a corpse in a loveless marriage? Because you’re clearly not fucking me.”

“Mr. Bones,” she challenged him. 

“Mrs. Rochester. Imagine me as someone, a lawyer.” Edgar started walking away. “I told Sarah we were in on assignment. And she asked if you were a cloistered nun. I can tell by the way you speak to him...”

Professor McGonagall silenced him with a kiss. James stared, struck dumb in more ways than one when she caught her breath and went back for more. Edgar smiled, stroking her cheek. Benjy followed James’s gaze, and Edgar pulled the woman closer. He lifted her in his arms, either forgetting or not caring he had an audience and shoved her up against the wall. 

“Sarah’s going to kill me,” said Professor McGonagall breathlessly. 

“Probably,” said Edgar. He stepped away, acting as though they did nothing more than shake hands. “I’m not kissing you, Minerva, so it helps if you forget me. Think of Elphinstone.”

“Who?” James, unable to help himself, glanced at the Transfiguration teacher. 

“Oh my God, life suddenly makes much more sense.” Benjy rubbed his hands together gleefully like he dished in on some story. The Professor flushed and struggled to maintain her composure as she swept across the sitting room. 

“Sorry. I thought he knew.” Edgar winced. 

“Don’t even go there.” Minerva jabbed her finger at Benjy. Benjy demanded to know since when. “I give you a date and we drop this subject like it never happened?”

Benjy crossed his heart. 

“The thirteenth of November, 1963.” Minerva crossed her arms, refusing to say anything else. 

“Oh, my God. That’s, like, fifteen years.” Benjy counted back on his fingers. James, who felt rather uncomfortable about this whole thing altogether, wished he was everywhere but here. Benjy paused, throwing away caution. He cleared his throat awkwardly and phrased this delicately. “Are you good?”

“Benjamin!” Professor McGonagall glared daggers at him. Benjy backed off, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. Professor McGonagall glared at James, daring him to ask. “I’m involved with a man who used to be my boss. I suppose we can drop this Professor and student nonsense.”

“So, we’re, like, friends?” James ran a hand through his untidy hair and extended his hand. 

“We are friends,” said Professor McGonagall slowly, shaking it. “Don’t make me regret this, James. Call me Minerva.”

“Really?” James waited for the other shoe to drop.

“Really, really,” said Professor McGonagall dryly. A smile touched her lips and James returned it. Her lips fell into a severe line. “What is it, James?”

“You really like me. Yeah!” James punched the air triumphantly. She shrugged, saying she liked most people. The other men in the sitting roon grinned. “Yeah, but you really, really like me. All this ‘Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter’ nonsense?”

“I handpicked you as Head Boy,” she pointed out. “You drove me insane because you enjoyed the game.”

Benjy threw up his hand. “I angered you at the Ministry for the hell of it. Whenever you visited Elphinstone in the summertime, I didn’t help you on purpose. You’re welcome!”

“You don’t say!” Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows and went over to check on Charlie. She kissed his forehead. “This is my godson. I can’t figure why a Catholic man gives his children to the daughter of a Presbyterian minister, but what do I know?”

“He’s a cute kid,” conceded James. 

“Isn’t he?” Minerva sat down and placed Charlie’s head in her lap. “What happened to his hand?”

“Not ... nothing.” Benjy eventually confessed. Professor McGonagall said she had all afternoon to get comfortable with the so-called “Mr. Rochester”. “I hate you.”

“Let’s play a game, Mr. Fenwick.” Professor McGonagall crossed her legs and tapped her foot. “Say I drop z who let me remind you, sir, is your weary pregnant wife, a drop about this boy? How long will it take her to get here? Are you enjoying Christmas?” 

Benjy flexed his fingers. “Damnit. I hope I don't have a daughter.” 

“You keep my secrets, sir, and I’ll keep yours.” Professor McGonagall smiled softly as she met James’s hazel eyes across the sitting room. “I love you, too, Benjamin, darling. Happy Christmas.” 

“Reverend’s cloistered daughter,” said Benjy, walking over to the staircase and tapping his fingers on the banister.

“Benjy,” said Edgar. 

“Happy Christmas, Minerva . If you should find a tower of sweets from the Chocolate Shoppe, it doesn't mean I like you.” Benjy dashed downstairs when the Professor pulled a hurt expression. “It ain’t love. Because I don't like you half the time doesn't mean I don't love you, madam.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fun Christmas piece to write. Reviews would be awesome.


End file.
